


Fairy Tale

by rainier_day



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Caleb's parents are alive but offscreen, Fairy Tales, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22276039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainier_day/pseuds/rainier_day
Summary: Once upon a time, a runaway prince met a helpful fortune teller who liked stories with happily ever afters...
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast, Nott & Caleb Widogast
Comments: 8
Kudos: 138
Collections: Widomauk Winter Gift Exchange 2020





	Fairy Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [murderspice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/murderspice/gifts).



> WM Winter Exchange for murderspice! Hope you like it! :)

The streets on the outskirts of the city are far narrower and filthier than he expected. Having only travelled through these parts by horse and carriage, he wonders if the locals have a way of _not_ slipping in the mud and filth as they run. Behind him, the footsteps continue in pursuit, slower now with the armoured boots clumsily trying to maneuver through the maze-like streets. 

Turning a corner, he looks for a place to wait the guards out. A faint light in a partially open doorway catches his eye and he quickly ducks inside and presses himself up against the wall. 

Seconds pass before he allows his eyes to wander, catching the fireplace where a pitiful fire is struggling to stay lit. There are candles scattered throughout the room and at the opposite end to him, there’s a figure sitting at a table watching him.

He gives a start and tries to play it off by looking away. Crimson eyes seem to twinkle with amusement as a lilting voice says, “Surely there are better ways to hide? Want some pointers?”

That’s not what he was expecting. The tiefling gets up and walks over to him and all he can do is stare. Caleb’s never seen skin that tint of purple before or tattoos so intricate. But then again, he can count the number of tieflings he’s acquainted with on two fingers and one of them isn’t exactly a textbook colour either.

From what he can tell, this tiefling hasn’t figured out who he is yet, given the conversational tone that’s been set. “What are you expecting in return?”

The tiefling shrugs. “Some excitement? I don’t know, it’s always fun giving the guards the runaround. We can talk about payment later. Right now, I’m far more interested in talking about your technique.” Reaching out, he pulls Caleb by the arm farther into the room towards the table. “For starters, don’t stand by the door like you’re hiding.” 

Next, he takes his colourful jacket off and drapes it over Caleb and sits him down. Stepping back with a thoughtful hum, the tiefling reaches out again and flips the collar up, undoes his ponytail, and pulls up the hood. “What are you doing? I don’t even know you,” Caleb protests quietly, swatting the hand away. Not even his valet would dare touch him in such a casual manner.

Unperturbed, the tiefling simply slides into the chair across from him. Lighting a stick of incense, he begins shuffling the deck of cards he’d left on the table earlier. Pulling out three cards and laying them face down, the stranger merely smiles and says, “Mollymauk Tealeaf at your service. Molly to my friends. Now, dear, don’t turn around. Don’t say a thing. And act natural.”

He’s about to point out that none of those things are natural when there’s a knock on the door. “Excuse me...sir?” the guard guessed, suddenly thrown off.

“Whatever works. I’m not picky,” Molly replies with a shrug, looking up with a smile. “How can I help you on this fine evening?”

“Have you seen anyone run by here in the last few minutes?” the guard asks. “A young man with red hair, blue eyes, and a pale complexion?”

Caleb holds his breath and watches the tiefling, waiting to be outed. Molly looks to him for a moment then back to the guards and shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. I’ve been with my client for a while now and we didn’t hear or see anyone come by, did we? I’ll be sure to keep my ears peeled though.”

The stares turn to him. He can feel them boring into the back of his head. At this point, with blood thrumming so loudly in his ears, he has no idea what acting normal entails anymore. 

Luckily, Molly gestures to the cards he pulled and says, “Shall we continue the reading? We’ve revealed your past so let’s move onto your present. Please start from your right.”

Nodding stiffly, he reaches out and flips the first card.

“Ah, the golden arrow,” the tiefling says, looking down with raised brows. “That’s an interesting one. It signifies good luck in your life or a turning point in the story. Expect changes to come your way in the near future.” He smiles a private smile. “Perhaps you’ll meet a helpful stranger.”

Caleb narrows his eyes and Mollymauk’s smile widens, taking on a teasing edge.

“He’s not here,” the guard mutters from the doorway. “C’mon, he couldn’t have gotten far.”

There’s a quiet murmur of agreement and the guards continue on their way. Finally exhaling, he slumps down in his seat and looks up warily at the tiefling. “Thank you,” Caleb mutters. He reaches into his pocket where he keeps his coin and wonders what an appropriate amount to pay would be.

Nott’s never really delved into that much detail about her dealings in the city and his books aren’t any help. He knows how much tax to charge this person but not how much he makes or how much to pay him for a favour.

Molly tilts his head curiously. “You don’t want to finish the reading?”

“Oh, I was not aware—that is, I thought it was simply part of the distraction,” he stutters. “Should I flip the next card?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” the tiefling tells him kindly. Ruby red eyes hone in on his arm and he says, “If you’re trying to thank me, instead of coin, why don’t you tell me why the guards were after you? I could use a good story.”

Caleb furrows his brow, dropping the gold coins he was prepared to offer. “Stories are worth that much?”

Giving an offhanded wave, Molly smiles lazily. “A good story’s worth a lot more than you know, my dear.”

Without the threat of guards hovering over him, he takes his time and studies the tiefling. Under the candlelight, Mollymauk is quite beautiful, the charms hanging off his horns glimmering in the light like stars. He looks young like this, perhaps a couple of years younger than Caleb himself. Caleb’s eyes trail down to the dangerously low cut of Molly’s shirt and blinks at the sight of dozens of thin scars that litter the pale lavender skin.

He gives a start when he realizes he’s staring and quickly turns his gaze back up. “I…” he wracks his brain for a believable lie. Eventually, he settles for a half-truth. “I am not supposed to be here—in this part of the city, but I am trying to visit a friend.”

“Do you know where they live? You don’t look like the type to be navigating these streets.” A little ruefully, Molly adds, “No offense.”

Scoffing, he mutters, “That is only ever said when offense should be taken.”

Molly throws his head back and laughs and Caleb catches a peek of his fangs. “Quite right, princeling.” 

His heart skips a beat.

Had he been recognized after all?

“Full offense then, you don’t look like the type to be walking these parts,” Molly says, correcting himself. “Look, I’m not in the mood to take on any more clients today. Why don’t I help you find your friend?”

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Caleb says slowly, “That is a very generous offer, Mister Mollymauk.”

A happy grin spreads on the tiefling’s lips. “I am a very generous person. And very bored. Ever since the palace announced the prince’s birthday ball, all I’ve gotten are customers who want to see if they’ll get lucky somehow.”

He blinks. “Why would people here be bothered by a ball held at the palace?”

“You really are from the inner city, aren’t you?” Molly quips, his voice teasing rather than malicious. “Like I said, stories are worth a lot. Who _wouldn’t_ want a chance at happily ever after?”

“With the prince?”

Molly nods. “That’s the idea. I mean, that’s how the stories go, right? A lowly commoner finds a kindly archfey or wizard or some magic person who helps them attend the royal ball. In a crowd of hundreds, somehow, against all odds, their eyes meet the handsome prince’s. There’s an instant spark and the prince pushes through the crowd to ask for a dance. They dance and despite the difference in their upbringing, they fall in love and live happily ever after.”

Those aren’t the stories he grew up with. He’s always been told tales of brave knights and princes who go and fight dragons and rescue damsels and princes and return as heroes. The common folk never actually mattered in those stories beyond fulfilling the part of helpless victims.

Helpless victims who tell themselves stories about being rescued and falling in love with him, apparently.

He can’t imagine anyone wanting so badly to attend a ball to meet him. Surely they’d simply walk away disappointed when they realize he’s hardly dashing let alone a seasoned warrior. The whole premise sounds impossible even to him, but he can see the appeal in such a romantic idea.

“Is that what you want?” Caleb asks, curious.

His question seems to catch Molly off guard. Crimson eyes widen for a moment before a strange smile twists his lips. “You’re a strange one. I love a good romance as much as the next person but even I know that’s not in my cards.”

“Why not? You seem to have as much of a chance as anyone here,” he says, gesturing outside.

The tiefling chuckles. “None at all, you mean? It’d be even less than none for me. For one thing, they’d never let me near the palace. Tieflings don’t have the best reputation, you know? I was surprised you didn’t take off running when you first saw me. You inner city folk tend to be skittish about these things,” he says, gesturing to his horns and tail.

“I would not run without a good reason. You are different from me but that is no reason to be afraid.” He frowns and thinks of Jester and her mother. When he sees her next, he’ll have to ask her about this and make sure the palace staff have been treating them fairly. But then, they have money and there’s Fjord and Bluud, who are always with them, so maybe it’s not as big of an issue for them as it would be for Mollymauk.

“You’re sweet,” Molly says lightly upon seeing his concern. “Don’t let it bother you, princeling.” Getting up, he peeks at the remaining cards before folding them back into the deck. “Now, do you have any idea where your friend lives?”

Caleb nods and follows suit. “The apothecary?”

Eyebrows rising, Molly asks, “Like Brenatto Apothecary? That’s the only one around here. With Yeza and Veth and their kid? I guess she goes by Nott now. Gods, that’s another story on its own.”

“Yes, Nott the Brave. You know her, then?” he asks.

With an incredulous expression, the tiefling nods. “I do and I’m having a hard time believing you do too but who am I to judge? C’mon, I’ll take you to her. You probably don’t want to stay out too late.”

He walks to the doorway and glances down to see maroon and blue and an array of symbols sewn on. “Mollymauk, your coat.”

Molly waves him off and shakes his head. “Keep it for now. You stand out too much in your gear.”

“Oh, _I_ stand out in _my_ gear,” Caleb mutters dryly, eliciting a laugh from the tiefling. He threads his arms through the colourful sleeves and looks down, studying the symbols. “Why are you helping me?”

“Boredom, mostly. It gets dull sometimes without my charm,” Molly admits, locking up his store behind him. “But it’s also not every day that a handsome man like you comes running into my shop for help.”

His face heats up at the compliment and he ducks his head, hiding behind the coat’s high collar, getting a pleasant waft of incense and spices. “Well, I am glad you were bored, then.”

Crimson eyes glance back. “Not glad you’re handsome?”

“You don’t even know me,” he mumbles.

“But I have eyes and I like to think I know you a little from our time together so far,” the tiefling retorts. “What _is_ your name, by the way?”

It occurs to him to use a fake name, but the thought of hearing his name on Molly’s lips is too tempting, what with that lovely lilt of his. Besides, only his inner circle know to call him by this name and if Molly hasn’t recognized him yet, he’ll probably be none the wiser. “...Caleb.”

“Caleb,” Molly repeats, testing the name on his tongue. It’s as pleasant to his ears as he expected. “Well, Mister Caleb, shall we get you to your Nott? And while we walk, why don’t you tell me what you do?”

Idly rubbing his arms, he replies, “Nothing exciting for you, I’m sure. I spend most of my time studying.”

Undeterred, the tiefling asks, “Studying what?”

He shrugs. “A little bit of everything, I suppose, with an emphasis on magic.”

Molly arches his brows. “Magic? That’s plenty interesting, Caleb. Tell me, can you cast spells like the wizards in my stories do?”

“You will have to be more specific,” Caleb replies. “You seem to have a lot of stories, Mister Mollymauk.”

Although he’s not the most social or suave person by any measure, conversation with Mollymauk is comfortable. They talk about fairy tales and magic spells and the horrible monsters that lurk in stories.

“Speaking of monsters, did you know I used to perform with a travelling circus? ‘ _The Fletching and Moondrop Traveling Carnival of Curiosities’_. One of our members went rogue and we had to disband so I came here with Yasha, my charm. She’s off chasing storms right now,” Molly tells him with clear affection in his voice as he gestures at the sky. “She should be back soon though, and then we’ll go find more exciting jobs to do.”

Regaled by tales of fighting gnolls and giant spiders, Caleb listens with interest. It sounds so different from the organized hunts he’s forced to attend, so much more harrowing but also more thrilling. “I have never fought anything like that before.”

Molly laughs and pats his cheek lightly. “Princeling, it’s not something to envy. And it’s definitely not for everyone or I’d be out of a job.”

He wants to retort but suddenly, there’s a tail around his waist and an arm on his shoulder, pulling him back. Molly presses the both of them up against the alley wall with a quiet shush. Down the main street, another pair of guards goes jogging past them, muttering, “Where could he be? We better find him by nightfall or it’ll be all of our heads.”

Caleb cringes at the words and Molly turns to him with a curious look. “Guess we better get you home by nightfall, huh, princeling?”

“I did not think this would become such a problem,” he admits. “I just wanted to check on Nott.”

Poking his head out, the tiefling glances down the streets before taking his hand with a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be fine. We’re almost there. Now, since I’ve been telling you all these stories, how about you tell me one of yours? I prefer ones with happily ever afters.”

With his free hand, he pulls the coat tighter around himself and nods, all too aware of his growing reluctance to part with the tiefling. “Compared to you, I only know a few. ‘ _Once upon a time…_ ’”

\--

Eventually, they weave their way around the streets and reach a shop labelled ‘Brenatto Apothecary’. Molly knocks on the door and calls out with bravado, “I have a special delivery for one ‘Nott the Brave’?”

The door opens, revealing a grumbling goblin. She looks up, half way through a particularly violent threat, and brightens at the sight of him. “Caleb! What in the world are you doing here? How did you get out? Why are you with _this_ person? Molly didn’t bother you, did he? Did he take your money? I’ll kill him if he did!”

Relief flushes through him at the sight of his friend. Letting go of Molly’s hand, he scoops her up and gives her a hug. “I came to check up on you. I had not heard from you in a while and got worried, so I snuck out. You seem well though. And please don’t. Mollymauk is the one who helped me here. He is...a good egg. Without him, surely the guards would have caught me and brought me back already.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you really shouldn’t be here, Caleb. Not everyone here is good. I mean, I guess Molly’s okay but only just _barely_ ,” Nott chastises. “What if someone mugged you? What if you got lost? What if you got _hurt_?”

“I am fine, Nott the Brave, and feeling much better after seeing you well,” he says earnestly. Looking over, he sees Molly smiling at them and returns the smile shyly. “Thank you for your help again.”

Molly shrugs. “Don’t worry about it, darling. This was a nice break from work.”

Caleb looks down at Nott for further direction but she merely arches a brow at him. “It’s your choice. Your books didn’t say anything about thanking people?”

His books would suggest he knight the tiefling for his help but that seems excessive even to Caleb. Land? What would a fortune teller do with land? Coin? Molly had turned down payment earlier for a story.

“You’re smart, you’ll think of something on the way back,” Nott tells him, taking his hand. It’s small and clawed and so different from Mollymauk’s. “C’mon, I’ll walk back with you two.” Then she pauses and quickly pokes her head back inside and yells, “Yeza, honey, I’ll be right back! Make sure Luc finishes everything on his plate!”

There’s a softer reply Caleb can’t make out and Nott happily closes the door behind her. “Is everything alright at home?”

She nods and smiles, revealing too many jagged yellow fangs to comfortably fit in her mouth. It used to startle him when he first caught her sneaking around the palace, but he finds it endearing how widely she smiles at him now. “My son was a little under the weather but he’s much better now after he drank the tea Caduceus gave me. I’m sorry I didn’t come see you. I should’ve sent you a message.”

“Nein, I am just glad you’re well, Nott,” he replies with a smile. “It was an experience coming to this part of the city.”

“I bet it was. How’d you meet Mollymauk of all people anyway?” Nott asks.

Molly grins. “Your princeling came running into my shop looking like the Raven Queen herself was after him, isn’t that right, Mister Caleb?”

He rolls his eyes. “You exaggerate horribly, Mister Mollymauk. It was just,” his lips curl up, “good luck that I turned into the right place.”

“Good luck, indeed,” the tiefling chimes in. “Where else would you find such a helpful stranger?”

“Helpful if a bit dramatic,” Caleb retorts with a laugh.

Clutching his heart, Molly gasps, “Dramatic! How dare you!”

Nott shifts her gaze from him to Molly and back with interest. “You seem to get along well with Mollymauk. He’s got a colourful personality, doesn’t he?” she says quietly.

Caleb feels his face heat up. “Well, he certainly isn’t monochrome...”

Molly perks up. “Was that a joke?”

“Nein,” he quickly replies.

“Huh. Shame, it wasn’t half bad.”

Just as they’re about to reach the gates that separate the inner city from the outer, a carriage rolls by, flinging mud in every direction with its wheels. The three of them turn away and duck out of the way and Caleb frowns. “Is that common around these parts?”

Both Nott and Molly shrug. “Only if you’re on the main road when it’s wet. It’s normally just dirt and dust when it’s dry.”

“That does not make it any better,” Caleb mutters.

Nott shakes her head. “You don’t need to worry about it, Caleb.”

“I can and will, Nott. It is unsafe for the people living here,” he huffs, already mentally reviewing the process of getting city roads paved.

They continue and stop outside the gates where Molly smiles a bit ruefully. “I best stay on this side of the gate so I guess this is where we say goodbye, princeling. And just in time for sunset too.”

Caleb swallows his disappointment. “Thank you for your help.” He looks down and inhales sharply at the spatter of mud on the kaleidoscopic coat. “Oh, Mollymauk, your coat.”

Crimson eyes blink. “Hmm? Don’t worry about it. It’s just mud. It’ll wash out.”

He shakes his head as he takes the coat off and passes it back to the tiefling. “Nein, it is a long walk back and the evening will be cold.” Taking off his own coat, he drapes it over Molly’s shoulders and says, “Take this. I will get a ride back home once I am through the gates.”

Molly stares at him agape for a moment. “You really don’t need to, Caleb. How would I return it?”

“You can return it to me at the ball in three days,” Caleb suggests. At the look of disbelief on the tiefling’s face, he quickly adds, “I know you are uncomfortable in the inner city never mind the palace, but I have friends who would be happy to meet you. You would not be the only tiefling and you know Nott—she will be there too. I could even get Beauregard to pick you up from here. The library will be closed for the day anyway.”

“Wait, the palace? What? Are you allowed to just give out invites like that?” Molly asks uncomprehendingly.

Nott shakes her head. “Of course he can! It’s _his_ ball. You didn’t recognize him?”

Molly does a double-take at this. “Your ball...then—I thought the prince’s name was Bren or something? Bren Aldric Ere...Ermen…?”

“Ja, Bren Caleb Philip Aldric Ermendrud. It is a mouthful, I know,” he says sheepishly. “I prefer to go by Caleb.”

“Caleb, then,” Molly automatically replies. He runs a hand through his hair and laughs nervously. “The crown and the flame...guess that reading was for me, huh?” Then he looks up with a slight frown and asks, “Are you sure inviting me’s a good idea, Caleb?”

Feeling just as anxious and unsure himself, Caleb rubs his arms and mutters, “If you are that opposed to attending, I will not force you. It is an invitation, Mollymauk, not an order. And I am extending this not just to thank you but because I want you there. But you are free to decline.”

“You don’t even know me.”

He smiles despite himself as he recalls the tiefling’s words. “I like to think I know you a little from our time together so far.”

That earns him a soft laugh though the hesitation remains. “Well played. I admit I’m at a loss for what to say—not something that happens very often so congrats on that, I guess.”

A wave of bravery washes over him and he blurts out, “I want to see you again, Mollymauk, and I don’t want to leave it to chance or the whim of the fey. So, if you are so inclined to, please come to the ball. The guards will let you through unmolested. I promise.”

Molly doesn’t answer, hands clutching at his coat.

As quickly as it came, the bravery leaves him and he ducks his head and lowers his gaze. “And if you choose not to, then consider the coat my thanks for your help today. I...I should go home before people get in trouble on my account.”

“I’ll come visit you tomorrow,” Nott promises.

He manages a smile for her. “I look forward to it.” Glancing to the tiefling, he nods. “Goodbye, Mister Mollymauk.”

“Goodbye, princeling,” comes the soft reply.

Heart racing in a combination of anticipation and dread, Caleb walks back through the gates.

\--

Bidding farewell to the goblin and walking away, Molly pointedly ignores the stares she’s boring into her head. “Did you really not know?” Nott calls after him.

He waves her off and replies half-heartedly, “If I’d known, I would’ve taken the coin over the story!”

Winding his way back around the narrow streets and dingy alleyways, it occurs to him then that he should’ve given Nott the coat to return to the prince. But then, his mother always did tell him to return things in person.

Or, that’s the kind of thing he imagines a mother would say.

Giving the moss-covered corner wide berth, Molly pulls the coat tighter around himself and continues home to find the door unlocked. The sound of humming reaches his ears and momentarily forgetting about his earlier adventure, he throws the door and runs inside with a shout. “Yasha! You’re back!”

The woman sitting at the table where Caleb had been just earlier that day, turns around and smiles. “Hello Mollymauk. I was worried when I came back to an empty shop. I thought you got into trouble again.”

“Me? Trouble? I’d never!” Molly jogs over and flings himself onto her lap. Stretching up, he gives her a kiss on the cheek and tilts his head down for her to return one on his horn. “I see you’re doing well, dear. I had quite the run-in today. You’ll never guess who dropped by.”

“You know I’m no good at guessing games,” she says, her voice soft and gentle despite her size. “Was it someone you know?”

“Well, I vaguely knew _of_ him but we’d never met before,” he answers.

Yasha cocks her head. “So it’s someone famous?”

He nods. “Very.”

“Were they very handsome?”

Another nod.

“Were they nice?” she asks.

Thinking about it for a moment, he nods again. “For someone of his standing? Very nice.”

With a finger to her chin, Yasha hums thoughtfully. “Nice, handsome, and famous…was it Sir Taryon Darrington?”

Molly blinks and stares at her uncomprehendingly. “Who?”

“Oh, I’m reading his book right now. It’s very good,” she replies, pulling out the memoir from her bag on the floor for him to see. “Do you want me to read some to you?”

“Yes—no! Yasha! Not now, you’re supposed to be guessing!” But unable to contain himself any longer, he blurts out, “The prince! The prince was here!”

It’s Yasha’s turn to stare. She points in the general direction of the palace and asks, “ _That_ prince? Bren Aldric...Erem…dryad?”

He grins. “That’s the one. He goes by Caleb and he even lent me his coat—and guess what? I got invited to his birthday bash! You know the one everyone’s been talking about?”

Yasha smiles like the invitation doesn’t come as a surprise to her and he loves her for it. “That’s great, Molly. Are you going to go?” she asks.

At this, Molly falters and starts picking at the sleeve of Caleb’s coat only to find that there aren’t any loose threads or pieces of lint to pick at on the fine cloth. “I don’t know yet. I think he may have been just caught up in the moment and I doubt it’ll be that fun with all those nobles everywhere even if the wine costs more than we make in a year...” he rambles quietly to himself. “When’s our next job anyway?”

“I actually found one on the way back,” she tells him. “It’s in Alfield so we should set out soon if we want to meet Bryce in time.”

He stills and glances down at Caleb’s deep purple coat with conflicting feelings. Running a hand down the lapel, he eventually shrugs. “Ah, well, guess it just wasn’t in my cards.”

\--

The day of the ball comes and after sitting through the seemingly endless announcements of the lords and ladies in attendance, Caleb steals away to the corner of the room to hide from the crowd with his friends. “He will not come.”

“He might come?” Nott tries, her voice muffled underneath her porcelain mask. 

“Are you talking about the guy you met when you went to go see Nott? Isn’t he a hunter? I’ve heard of gnolls popping up near Alfield. They’re recruiting all the help they can get,” Beau tells him. “I don’t think he’ll come.”

Fjord elbows her and reassures him, “I’m sure he’ll be here. It’s your birthday! How could anyone ever say no to you?”

He frowns at the idea. “Because I am the prince?”

“No, because you’re Caleb, obviously!” Jester chirps, a large plate of pastries in her hand. She reaches up and feeds a piece to the strung out weasel wrapped around her neck. “I hope he comes. It’ll be fun to have another tiefling around, especially if he’s as pretty as you say he is.”

“It would be nice—what if the guards didn’t get the right message? What if I wasn’t clear in my description?” Caleb asks, wringing his hands.

Shaking her head with a scoff, Beau says, “They could’ve painted a portrait with the description you gave them. It was as clear as it could’ve gotten, man.”

“Then I suppose he is simply not coming,” he mutters, shoulders drooping.

At once, his friends do their best to distract him from his disappointment.

Caleb’s stifling a sigh when Caduceus suddenly leans down and whispers, “Keep your chin and eyes up, your Highness. You’ll never see who’s arriving otherwise.”

Blinking, he lifts his head and scans the crowd again. A splash of lavender and a twinkle catches his attention. Murmurs sweep the ballroom as the tiefling stands by the entrance, looking around uncomfortably with a familiar coat in his arms. Scanning the room, crimson eyes meet his and everything else seems to disappear.

“Please excuse me,” Caleb mutters to his friends as he walks away.

Pushing past the crowd, well wishes and enquiries falling on deaf ears, he makes his way to the entrance and smiles breathlessly. “You came.”

Apprehension melting away into relief, Mollymauk returns the smile. “I can’t stay too long, but I did. The stars must’ve lined up or something.”

“Is it a hunt?” he asks.

Molly nods and shrugs ruefully. “In Alfield, yes. We’re setting out tonight, but not yet. Not before I dropped by to return this, and not before I wished you a happy birthday.”

Collecting his coat, he holds out a hand. “Do you have time to meet my friends— _would_ you like to meet my friends?—oh, uh, or should we dance first? Like in your stories,” Caleb asks, nerves suddenly setting in.

Taken aback, Molly blinks and then bursts into laughter and takes his hand with a squeeze. “It’s our story now, princeling. We can do whatever we want.”

It’s impossible to keep himself from smiling as he leads the tiefling to the dance floor. Standing face to face, quietly, he admits, “I didn’t think you would come.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t too sure myself. But…” Molly smiles a warm, private smile, “but I prefer stories with happily ever afters, Mister Caleb, and I have a feeling that mine may lie with you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whenever I think the word 'prince', Two Princes starts playing in my head. It's still playing in my head now.


End file.
